nothing lasts forever
by roe2
Summary: What would it take to make Ryoma believe in love?


_Say you'll remember me _

_Standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset_

_Red lips and rosy cheeks _

_Say you'll see me again _

_Even if it's just in your wildest dreams_

* * *

><p>Sakuno wholeheartedly believed in love.<p>

"Love," she once said to a half-listening Ryoma, "is like magic. Hard to define, hard to describe unless you've experienced it for yourself. But it brings miracles, you see? It cannot be constrained by the possible and the impossible. I think that's what's great about love. Don't you think so, Ryoma-kun?"

The response was a careless shrug. He thought she was corny and girly and –_needlessly sentimental_. But she was also smiling at him, white teeth and crinkled eyes; so he sighed, and told her:

"Sure."

* * *

><p>As she held hands with her boyfriend, she had to keep on reminding herself that all successful relationships required a lot of work. It wasn't meant to be always sunshine and rainbows.<p>

Still, she had a feeling that she was doing something wrong, that _there was_ something wrong.

It's been over half a year, and yet, why can't Ryoma return three simple words back to her?

* * *

><p>Sakuno didn't know if she wanted to believe in love anymore.<p>

"This wasn't meant to happen."

Not only would Ryoma not look her way, he also sounded remorseful. Almost as if she was a mistake.

(But last night, it was hers to keep, wasn't it?)

Tears dampening her rosy cheeks, she sluggishly slipped into her white lace bra. A rare moment of intoxication made her lose control, not just for a single moment, but for the entire night. Logic, in fact, had long flown over her head and landed somewhere in the pile of rumpled clothing she had yet to sort through.

"I..." She swallowed, tried to clear her thoughts. "I hope this doesn't change anything."

"I hope so too," he said simply, as he bent over to pick up his shirt.

Sakuno wiped her tears and gathered herself, trying to ignore the sharp ache between her thighs as well as the burning soreness in her limbs. She wondered how to leave the memory of him in the bed they had shared. Maybe she should burn the sheets, burn everything once he leaves.

The world awaited the Prince of Tennis and Sakuno's love wasn't enough to stop him from leaving.

* * *

><p>Sakuno didn't spend her time pining for Ryoma. The world won't stop for her, won't give her time to lick her wounds clean while whimpering like a kicked animal. No, she had to heal herself.<p>

So she moved on._ On and on and on._ Life didn't happen in broken pauses after all._ On and on and on_. Her love won't end with Ryoma, she swore.

* * *

><p>Three years have come and gone. Using her savings, Sakuno managed to open up a small bakery near Seigaku. The proximity ensured occasional visits from Coach Ryuuzaki, delighting grandmother and granddaughter alike.<p>

The bakery, aside from serving donuts and various pastries, also offered hot cocoa, steamy chai, and warm, spiced cider sourced from an orchard not too far away from the city. Business boomed and it didn't take long until a steady steam of people walking in and out of the bakery became a usual occurrence.

One day, a university graduate from out of town with hair the color of burnt copper walked in, asking where Namahana Tower was. She bashfully confessed she wasn't good with directions, but tried helping him anyway. The next week, he came back, playfully chastising her for giving him the wrong directions. He ended up joking that all would be forgotten if she would give to him her number.

She did.

* * *

><p>Ryoma's desire to reach the summit of tennis increasingly grew as he tried reminding himself every waking moment of his life that a great love cannot equal the prestige he would soon enjoy. The titles under his belt increased, but so did the ache in his heart. At the back of his head, he wondered how he could bring all his strength, all his power, and use it to unbreak her heart.<p>

Japan, it seemed, was calling back to him.

* * *

><p>"Do you still believe in it? In love?"<p>

"Of course."

"Then do you believe in second chances?"

"Why? Should I you give you a second chance?"

It was not the answer he had expected, and he wondered when he had begun expecting. When she turned to walk away, he kept on staring at her shoulder-length hair –shadowed echoes of much time has passed.

"Love brings miracles, didn't you once say it?" he asked, wanting her to turn around. Turn around and notice him again, let him give to her the whole of his heart this time around. "Love is why betrayal hurts; love is why hearts break. No possible or impossible. That's why—"

And he stopped, unsure.

"That's why I'm back." Her silence suffocated him. "Because I believe in it now."

Sakuno was looking back at him; but these are hardened eyes, eyes that had seen the world and the grief it could offer. Her gaze was not loving, merely sympathetic. It hit Ryoma then that he wasn't the infallible boy she once thought he was anymore, just as this girl standing in front of him wasn't the lovestruck girl in his memory who hung on to his every word.

"I believe it it now," he repeated, hoping for a different ending than the one he knew was coming.

She approached him with slow, careful steps. Ryoma shut his eyes tight as a hand reached out to gently cradle his jaw. For a moment, they were eighteen again, and she was head-over-heels in love with him, her eyes seeing no one else. Like a child who realized his mistake, after finally understanding how precious the glass was in his hands before –that he was supposed to take hold onto with care– he wanted to say sorry. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, _for everything Sakuno_, sorry—**  
><strong>

"I'm sorry, Ryoma-kun."

In the end, it was easier to break things, than to bring it back whole again.

"You believed too late."

* * *

><p><em>You see me in hindsight<em>

_Tangled up with you all night_

_Burnin' it down_

_Some day when you leave me_

_I bet these memories follow you around_

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**

Believe it or not, the RyoSaku stories I love the most are full of fluff. So how did this mess happen? I blame Taylor Swift haha. And oh, as a disclaimer, I don't own The Prince of Tennis or the song 'Wildest Dreams'.

_roe2_


End file.
